New Year's Ball
by stayathomemum
Summary: Our detectives are invited a swanky event to ring in the New Year, 2005. E/O
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Takes place at the end of 2004. Olivia has a secret talent, and our detectives deserve a night out on the town. A New Year's Eve fic. If you have the time, please listen to the song "New York" by Alicia Keys to accompany the story. Happy New Year, everybody!_

 _P.S. I'm still writing Worth, but just needed a bit levity._

"May I have your attention please?" Captain Cragen cleared his throat. "Please, be quiet." In response to his authoritative directive, the loud buzz in the bullpen dropped to a quiet hum. Detectives and unis turned to look at their captain, most of them wondering what horrific crime he would be announcing now.

"What's up, Cap?" Fin asked.

"Relax people, this is good news," Cragen assured them, in an effort to calm the apprehensive faces surrounding him. The shift in mood was instantaneous, as a collective sigh of relief went around the room. "I know this has been a tough year for all of you, and the stress of working through the holidays hasn't helped. Sadly, crime doesn't take a break over the Christmas season. So, I want to take this moment to thank you. I want to thank you all for your dedication and hard work, for the long hours and time spent away from your loved ones. I appreciate the sacrifice. The residents of New York City appreciate your sacrifice. Don't ever forget how much you're needed in this city, and how your work impacts the community we live in." He nodded at them all, acknowledging their efforts. "So, without further ado, I want to tell you all that you'll be receiving generous yearend bonuses." His words were met with applause and whoops of enthusiasm. Cragen waited until the cheers died down before continuing.

"There's more." He paused for effect and waited for the room to go quiet. "Our precinct, along with all of those within Manhattan and its surrounding boroughs, are invited to attend a New Year's Eve Ball. It was supposed to be a Christmas party, but the situation with the Martinovic murder made that impossible. We'll be on skeleton staff, essential crew only for New Year's Eve. The rest of you are invited to the Four Seasons Hotel for a formal event. We'll dance, eat, and toast the New Year together. Your official invitations will be distributed today. Any questions?" A flurry of hands went up.

"Yes, you …" Cragen pointed at a young uniformed officer.

"Can we bring a date?"

"Of course. It's a plus one event."

"Is it black tie?" another officer asked.

"Yes, it is. All of the information is on your paper invitations, which you'll be receiving later today. I think we're done here, folks. Back to work." Cragen knew how busy his people would be between now and New Year's Eve. He wanted them to get back to work so more of them would be able to attend the Ball. Choosing the few to stay behind wouldn't be fun. He would first ask for volunteers, and hope it wouldn't come down to a random draw. They all deserved this reward.

"John and Olivia, may I see you in my office please?" the Captain asked them after he'd dismissed the others. The two detectives glanced at each other in surprise and followed the Captain to his little office.

"Please, close the door and have a seat."

John and Olivia obeyed and waited for their captain to speak. "Do you want us to stay behind the night of the party?" Olivia asked. She assumed this because both of them were single.

"No, not at all. Actually, this is about the party," Cragen said. "John, I hear you were quite the accomplished pianist some years back. Do you still play?"

Munch shrugged. "I know my way around the ivory keys, Captain. It was all those forced piano lessons when I was a kid. Guess they paid off."

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear that," the Captain replied. "And Olivia, when you applied here, I noticed in your file that you minored in music prior to applying to the Academy. Do you play any instruments?"

"No," she said as a light flush crept up her cheeks.

"You don't? Then, why did you minor in music?"

"I don't play any instruments. I, uh, oh gosh, this is embarrassing." Olivia looked down at her feet and bit her lip.

"Ok, now I've got to know," Munch said with a sly grin. "What musical talent do you possess, Detective Benson?"

"I sing," she whispered.

"You sing?" both men repeated.

"Well, sort of. Or at least I used to, back when I was nineteen," she told them. "The minor was my mother's idea. She thought Criminal Justice on its own was too depressing. As an English professor, she favored the arts, and she offered to pay my tuition if I took the music classes. Kind of like your forced piano lessons, John."

"So, Olivia, how comfortable are you singing in front of a crowd?"

Xxxx

December 31st dawned mild and sunny, much warmer than had been predicted. The SVU detectives were all scheduled to work that day, but only until 4 pm. The New Year's party was to begin at 7 pm, giving them all adequate time to return home and dress for the occasion.

"Who's coming to the party tonight?" Fin asked his colleagues. He was trying to get through some dull paperwork and felt a bit chatty.

"Kathy is looking forward to a night out without kids," Elliot replied. "We don't go on dates very often. It gave her an excuse to buy a new dress but when I saw the price tag, I remembered why we don't go on dates very often," he mused.

"One of my exes once spent over three grand on a damned dress," Munch threw in. "She had to have designer duds." He shook his head at the memory. "Thank god I'm divorced."

"Yeah, well, it's just a dress, John. And it wasn't three grand. That's what we spend on orthodontics for one kid. Not on a dress."

"And that's why I don't have kids either," Munch countered.

"How much did your dress cost you, Olivia?" John asked her. "I'm sure you found something decent for under three grand."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't ask me that," she told him, sternly. "My dress is my own business."

"So, did you buy a new dress?" Elliot asked. He was curious to see her later, wondering what she'd look like in feminine clothes instead of her usual cop threads. For a minute, he let his thoughts drift to Olivia in a form fitting gown, maybe with a bit of cleavage showing. He entertained the thought for a moment too long and felt himself begin to harden. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

"Yes, I did," she said. "And I'm not revealing the sticker price."

"Do you, uh, have a date?" Elliot asked. He cringed at the thought of a man dating his partner, even though it wasn't his right.

"John and I are going stag together," she said.

"Couldn't you at least pretend it's a date?" John said, defeated. "I mean just for tonight?"

"No way we'd buy that," Fin laughed.

"Why the hell not? All of my ex-wives are beautiful women!"

"Yeah but, no offense, they ain't _Olivia-beautiful_ ," Fin said. "Besides, you're old enough to be her father."

"Asshole," John shot back.

"Geezer," Fin said.

"Guys, enough!" Olivia jumped in. She walked over to Munch and patted his shoulder. "I'm happy to be going with you tonight, John. It's a date." She shot Fin a warning look and headed over to her locker.

"Where are you going?" Elliot asked her. He was feeling jealous and couldn't focus on his work. Thinking of Olivia out of context was too distracting.

"To the stylist," she told him. "I'm done for the day."

"But it's not even noon!"

"Cragen told me to take the entire afternoon off. Sorry, guys. See you at the party," she said with a huge grin. She certainly had no intention of cluing them in, but John knew. He caught her eye and winked, though she almost missed it because of his dark lenses. Olivia shot her colleagues a wide smile and headed out the door.

Xxxxx

Olivia loved being pampered. As a busy detective, she didn't have much time to devote to massages or mani/pedi's, but deep down, there was a girly girl inside who craved the feminine luxury. She spent a couple of hours at a nearby spa, getting a salt rub, then having her hair styled and nails done. She chose a daring crimson red for her fingers and toes, and felt giddy admiring the result. Once her hair was done, she allowed the cosmetician to apply her makeup.

"You look beautiful, Miss Benson," the makeup lady told her. "I didn't use much foundation because your skin is naturally even toned and tanned." She spun Olivia around so she could see the results for herself in the mirror.

She gasped at the dazzling elegance mirrored back to her. "I like the eye makeup; it's very dramatic," she said.

"You have lovely eyes. They're mysterious. This makes them pop out, no?"

"Oh yes, it really does. Thank you."

"Please make sure your nails are dry before you get dressed for your party. And please, don't smudge your makeup."

"Don't worry," Olivia reassured her. "I will be extra careful. Thank you so much; you did a terrific job. I feel pretty." Olivia grabbed her purse and gingerly unzipped it with her fingertips, careful to avoid her manicure. She took out a twenty and gave it to the woman as a tip.

"Thank you, Miss Benson. And you are so much more than pretty. You're a knock out," the lady told her.

Xxxxxx

Elliot and Kathy had gotten the older girls to babysit the twins. They had to pay them, of course, and the going rate was seven bucks an hour, each.

"Ya think Maureen and Kathleen are overcharging us?" Elliot asked his wife, as he drove to the Four Seasons.

"Of course they are. They know they can get away with it tonight because we wouldn't miss this Ball for anything," Kathy replied. She smiled at her husband and checked her reflection in the visor mirror yet again.

"You look fine, Kath," he told her. Kathy nodded but double checked again. Her hair was up in a bun and her makeup was heavier than usual. She'd let the girls help her with it, and wasn't used to the thick mascara or extra layer of blush they'd applied to her face. Kathy preferred not wearing any makeup at all, or very little. She also wasn't used to her dress, and she scratched at the itchy lace around her shoulders.

"Do you have a rash or something?" Elliot asked her. "You've been scratching yourself for the entire ride over."

"I don't have a rash. This dress is itchy," she complained.

"Too bad you didn't realize that before you bought it," he sighed. "Four hundred dollars ago."

"I'll return it, don't worry. The tag is still attached. So long as I don't spill anything on it," she explained.

"What?! No, you can't do that. I won't have my wife borrowing a dress from the store. You bought it; it's yours now," he exclaimed incredulously.

"But it's four hundred dollars honey. I only wanted to look nice tonight, not overspend."

"Yeah but …" Elliot trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say. He didn't actually like the overtly frilly pink dress, and wouldn't object to getting his money back. Then again, he didn't want to be a cheapskate. "If it's itchy and uncomfortable, okay," he finally relented.

"We're here!" Kathy told him. She pointed to the limousines arriving and giggled with excitement. "Oh my gosh, look at the fancy limos. Do you think any celebrities are here?"

"I don't know," Elliot said. He frankly didn't much care if there were celebrities or not. "Maybe some couples hired a limo, you know, like for a prom," he suggested.

"But that's such a waste of money!"

"It's okay, Kathy. Tonight is supposed to be a reward for our hard work. It's New Year's Eve. We can live it up a little. It's not a sin." Elliot pulled the car up to the valet service and gave his keys. He and Kathy began to make their way to the hotel door.

"Speaking of sin, look at that woman! Her dress is practically non-existent," Kathy huffed. She was watching the back of a tall, shapely brunette strolling toward the hotel entrance. "Honey, could her dress be any slinkier?" Kathy shook her head in dismay.

"Huh?" Elliot stood transfixed, watching the woman's hips sway in a sexy rhythm with each step she took. The effect was hypnotic, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. He watched as she disappeared through the revolving door.

"Elliot!"

"What?"

"Don't crash into the door," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm and hurt.

Elliot turned to face his wife. "It's a revolving door. I can't crash into it. Let's go."

"You were staring at her behind."

"You _told_ me to look at her!" he said in exasperation.

Kathy scoffed and blew air through her nose. "Never mind."

The Stablers went through the revolving door and were greeted by a glorious, wide marble lobby. Christmas decorations were still up from the previous week, with magnificent trees reaching well over thirty feet each, and fully decorated in gold and silver bells. The overhead chandeliers were reflected in the shiny ornaments, creating a dazzling effect. "Wow, it's so beautiful here," Kathy exclaimed!

"Excuse me, Elliot, you're blocking my way!" A breathless John Munch ran up to the Stablers. "Hello Kathy, nice to see you tonight. My date was waiting for me while I was parking the car; no valet is taking my keys. " John walked between the husband and wife, eager to reach Olivia's side. "There she is," he declared proudly. "Holy smokes, Liv, you look amazing."

Elliot and Kathy followed Munch's gaze, as it landed on the tall brunette with the sashaying hips.

Oliva swung around and smiled. John reached her side and stood next to her, a look of gratified disbelief on his face. "Olivia is my date tonight," he told Kathy as the Stablers rounded in on him.

"Olivia?" Elliot croaked, unable to believe the vision before him. She was stunning; her newly bobbed hair shiny and sleek, the long bangs playfully swinging against her cheeks when she moved her head. And she glowed; her skin was like polished copper. But it was her eyes that drew in him completely. Olivia always had lovely, expressive eyes, but right now, they appeared even larger than usual, enhanced by a deep, smoky shadow. He clenched his hands and fought the powerful urge to stroke her smooth arm. He swallowed hard and shifted his lower half away from his wife.

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" John asked them, proudly.

"That's some dress, Olivia," Kathy choked out. She stared at the other woman, wondering how on earth she could fit a bra under such a slinky gown. She stared at Olivia's cleavage, but looked away when the detective caught her.

"Thank you," Olivia replied, somewhat guarded now. She'd seen the resentful look on Kathy's face and could sense tension between her and her husband.

Elliot couldn't tear his eyes from her. The light sparkled off the silvery filaments of her gossamer thin, translucent wrap. It didn't hide a thing. Olivia's dress was moulded to her body, a thin silver crushed velvet gown with spaghetti straps and a deeply plunging neckline. The dress was long, down to her feet, but a slit up one side made it possible for her to walk, no to sway.

"We should go in," Olivia turned to her Munch. Elliot's intense scrutiny of her was causing her tummy to do all sorts of funny little flip flops. She needed to breathe, but how could she when his blue eyes were stroking her entire body? When he raked his gaze back up the length of her and connected with her eyes, she felt a warm heat assert itself in her cheeks and belly. Bedroom eyes, she though. Elliot was looking at her with bedroom eyes and she couldn't breathe.

"Yes, we should all go in," Kathy replied, a little too sharply.

His wife's voice slapped him back to reality. She was looking daggers at Elliot. If looks could kill, he thought to himself. Man, I'd be dead.

 _To be continued …_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Anybody ever seen the very famous picture where Sophia Loren looks at Jayne Mansfield's (Mariska's mom) cleavage with distaste and judgement during a dinner party? You can google it under "Jayne Mansfield-Sophia Loren photo". Anyway, a little homage...**_

The 1-6 SVU detectives were all seated at the same large round table for dinner, an elaborate feast of insalata, prime rib, baby carrots and roasted potatoes, served with generous amounts of red wine. Olivia sat between Munch and Kathy, the latter taking note of her cleavage every few seconds. She wanted to tell Elliot's wife to knock it off. Silent judgement emanated loudly from the blonde's repeated scrutiny, making Olivia wonder more than once if her nipples were showing.

"Are you going to eat the rest of that?" Munch asked her.

"What?"

"The meat. You left half of it. Are you going to eat it?" he persisted, tapping Olivia's prime rib with his fork. "Can I have it?"

"Uh, sure, John." She'd lost her appetite anyway. From her seat, she couldn't properly see Elliot where the table curved away from her, but his wife inhabited her personal space. She was certain Kathy could hear every time she chewed. "Excuse me, I need to use the Ladies' room," she said.

"Wait, I'll come with you," Kathy called after her. Olivia winced but turned around and smiled at her. "Sure."

"Why do women always go to the bathroom together anyway?" Munch asked.

"So they can talk about us," Fin replied.

"Don't worry, there's not much to talk about," Olivia teased him. A small moment of joviality to disperse the tension coming from Kathy. She had a feeling Kathy wanted to talk. As she passed by Elliot's seat, she caught his eye, and noticed that he looked uncomfortable seeing them headed to the bathroom together. God, he was so handsome, she mused to herself. That tux fitted him to perfection, and his blue eyes seemed more vivid than usual beneath the chandelier lights. She dawdled, letting her gaze linger over him for a moment, the heady effects of too much Pinot Noir and not enough food slowing her down.

"Are you coming, Olivia?"

"Yeah, Kathy, I'm coming. These shoes aren't made for walking fast."

Kathy looked down at Olivia's feet, the perfectly pedicured crimson toes peeking out from thin strappy high heels. "They're not made for winter either," she commented rudely. "Neither's your dress. Aren't you cold? You look cold." Again, the blonde dipped her eyes to Liv's cleavage.

Olivia's eyes widened in surprise but she kept her mouth shut and followed Kathy to the Ladies' room. She avoided conversation by heading directly into a closed stall, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when she was finally alone. First thing she did was make sure her nipples weren't popping out of her dress. Check, they were fine, despite the dress' low neckline. The dress was revealing but after spending two hours trying on over a dozen of them in a row, this was the one she fell in love with. She loved the way it hugged her curves, and draped down elegantly to her feet. Also, the sheer velvety fabric was exquisitely soft and pleasurable to the touch. The material moved with her and made her feel elegant and beautiful, so Kathy could go suck an egg if she had a problem with it. The saleslady at the clothing store had assured her that the dress was perfect for formal evening wear and that she was lucky to have firm enough boobs to carry it off. The comment had made her blush, but she didn't disagree with the woman's assessment. She wondered if Kathy would go away if she stayed in the stall long enough, but no such luck.

"You almost done, Olivia? They'll be coming around with coffee and tea next."

"I'm coming." She stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, aware of Kathy's eyes on her back.

"Are you having fun tonight, Olivia?" Kathy asked as she sidled up to her and touched up her lipstick. The disdain in her voice carried through the false lightness of her tone.

"I suppose," she replied neutrally.

"You've been very quiet all evening," Kathy commented.

"I was chewing."

"But you hardly ate anything."

Olivia slammed her clutch purse on the counter and turned to face Kathy. "What's with the third degree, Kathy?"

Kathy pointed to herself in surprise. "I'm not giving you the third degree, _O-liv-i-a_. Just trying to make conversation." The blonde turned away and strode out of the bathroom, leaving Liv gaping after her. "What are you playing at, Kathy?" she whispered to herself.

After taking a few moments to compose herself, Liv headed back to her table. Kathy was already seated next to Elliot, her head inclined toward him, whispering in his ear. When she returned to her seat, the blonde ignored her, whereas Elliot stared for a moment too long.

"Good, you're back," Munch said. "We're up next," he told her.

"So soon?" Liv asked, a slight tremble in her voice.

"Wait, where are you guys going?" asked Fin, as Munch began to lead Olivia toward the front of the spacious ballroom.

"You'll see," John said with a grin. "My date and I are going to make special music together."

"John!"

"It's only one date, Olivia. Let me milk it for all it's worth, okay?"

"You're incorrigible," she laughed.

"And you're incomparable," he said, safely within the confines of their strong friendship and working relationship.

The two detectives made their way to the front of the room and waited for the Police Commissioner to introduce them. After giving a brief blurb about their precinct and jobs, he addressed the purpose of their presence on stage. "We all serve the great city of New York together, protecting and guarding it from crime. It's our city. At heart, we're all New Yorkers." He paused as the crowd voiced murmurs of approval. "I think none of us felt it more strongly than after 9/11," he said somberly. "We love our city and for tonight's entertainment, we asked some of our own _boys in blue_ to give a musical rendition about our fine city. Oops, sorry Detective Benson, our _people_ in blue. Officer Amelia Mendez composed the music and lyrics, Detective John Munch plays the piano, and Detective Olivia Benson sings this lovely tribute to New York. Please welcome them warmly."

"She sings?" hissed Kathy. "You didn't tell me she was going to sing," she continued, the reproach in her voice real.

Elliot shrugged. "I didn't know. I guess it's supposed to be a surprise." And surprised he was. He knew Munch dabbled in the piano and saxophone but had no idea that his partner of six years could sing. Truth be told, he was stunned. Even more so when she opened her mouth and began to sing, " _Oooooh, New York_ ". At first, she was tentative, holding her microphone awkwardly, too far from her mouth. John accompanied her on the piano, while the song's composer stood next to him with cymbals. Olivia continued singing, gaining more confidence with each line of music, her voice slowly gathering strength and momentum until she hit a powerful crescendo with the line, " _concrete jungle where dreams of made of_ ". She jumped back slightly, clearly having startled herself. From then on, she beamed, brightly smiling, and self-assured as she held the microphone close to her lips and leaned into the music, letting its powerful chords swell through her entire body. " _Baby, I'm from New York_ …" and she kept on, a proud New Yorker belting it out robustly, her heart on her sleeve for the city that coursed through her very veins.

The crowd was moved, none more than Elliot, a born New Yorker to the core, accent and all. He'd been one of the first responders during 9/11, and had lost three close friends in the attack. But it was the aftermath that had given him newfound hope in humanity. At the time, his faith in God and people had almost been wiped out along with the Twin Towers. However, witnessing the way his city came together, people supporting each other, the random acts of kindness, and the strong backing of those in blue, had restored his devotion to this great city. His eyes began to well with tears as he remembered the lost friends, Stewart, Rick and Hiroshi. They'd all been at the Academy together, and though they'd been sent to different precincts around the city, they'd stayed in touch, the code of their brotherhood stronger than any friendships with civilians. Losing them had devastated him, and it was Olivia who had supported him during his time of grief and crisis. She too, had lost a couple of friends from the Academy but she'd remained a rock for him despite her own pain. 9/11 had occurred not even two years into their partnership, but the bond they'd forged in their shared sorrow had created a turning point in their friendship, building a bond that went beyond duty, beyond simple affection and beyond family.

He listened attentively to her now, mesmerized by her presence, the way her voice resonated exquisitely through the room and straight into his soul. Goosebumps rose on his arms when she hit a high note. He swallowed hard and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. She was singing only to him; their eyes connected across the space between them, and the feeling was strong. Nobody else existed in this moment; only Olivia in her silver velvet dress, toned bronze arms gesturing widely, hips swaying in rhythm to the music. His heart was ready to lurch out of his chest as her dark eyes remained connected to his. When she was finished, the room broke into wild applause, and like a tidal wave forming through the crowd, people began to stand, expressing their approval with thunderous clapping.

"Encore!" some shouted.

"Thank you. Thank you all so much. But I'm sorry; I don't have another song," she apologized to her colleagues, overwhelmed by their reaction. She began to shrink behind the piano.

"Come on, you've got to know at least one other song!" somebody shouted.

"You're terrific, babe," another cop yelled enthusiastically. "Amazing!"

"Thank you all for your enthusiasm," the Police Commissioner came to Olivia's rescue. "And thank you Detective Benson for your stirring rendition of this song. It was beautiful."

She blushed and nodded, then began making her way back to her table, legs shaking from adrenaline. Munch came up behind her and they walked together, practically supporting each other. Her gaze was still upon Elliot; she'd connected with him during the song, remembering the trauma of their experience post 9/11. It wasn't something they talked about, but it was always there, tethering their hearts together. The song had brought it all back; the terror, the exhaustion, the loss, and so soon after losing her own mother. Despite it all, they hadn't even taken a break from their jobs because sex crimes hadn't stopped when those planes had hit the World Trade Center. She knew Elliot was having the same thoughts; he had a sombre look on his face, though now it was softened by another expression she'd never seen before.

"Liv," he whispered, as she and Munch sat back down in their assigned seats. His eyes bore into hers, solidifying an intimate connection between them. Neither one of them could blink or tear their gaze from the other. "Liv, you were amazing." His voice was gruff with emotion. Moving on instinct alone, he grasped her elbow, amazed by the silky softness of her golden skin. The air surrounding them crackled with an invisible force.

"Ahem," Munch cleared his throat loudly. Watching Stabler make googly eyes at his date wasn't sitting too well with him. And why was he holding her arm like that? "How was my piano playing?"

"What?" The two detectives looked up at their friend, dazed and dazzled.

"How was my piano playing?" he insisted, a bit more loudly this time.

Elliot blinked, suddenly woken from his trance. "Uh, it was great. Terrific playing, John. Good job."

"Yes, yes", the others at the dinner table added in agreement. Captain Cragen told them both what a wonderful job they'd done with the song, and how proud he was of them. Soon, they were all chatting and laughing together, learning about Olivia's minor in musical theory.

"Where's Kathy?" Liv piped up, only now aware that their table was one person short.

Elliot looked to the chair beside him in surprise. "Uh, I don't know. She must have just gone to the Ladies' Room or something."

"No. She left during the song," Fin informed them.

"No … that's impossible, I would have noticed," Elliot said, a deep flush creeping up his neck.

"You didn't notice," Fin replied flatly.

"Did you see where she went?" Elliot asked, angered by Fin's disapproving tone.

"No idea, man. She just up and left."

Elliot stood up and scanned the room for his wife, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

 _A/N: A little fluff piece that was supposed to be a one-shot needs at least one more chapter to finish. Hope you all like it. Reviews please!_


	3. Chapter 3

Elliot could not see Kathy from his vantage point at the precinct's dinner table. He couldn't believe that she'd simply left while Olivia was singing, and was even more stunned by the fact that he hadn't noticed. He knew that his relationship with Kathy wasn't going so well these days; they bickered about inconsequential things on a daily basis. He was often purposely late coming home, preferring to stay behind at work and tidy up paperwork rather than rushing back to Kathy and the inevitable squabble that would ensue. He'd thought that tonight's formal dinner date would go a long way in smoothing out tensions between them, especially after he gave her carte blanche to purchase her dress. But it was obvious to him now that one fancy date could not undo years of damage. The issues underlying the conflict between them were never resolved; he worked long hours and wasn't always there for his family. Moreover, he couldn't share details of the horrific cases he worked, and bottled it all up instead.

When images of abused and murdered victims flooded his brain, he had to keep it to himself, and not bring it home. In many ways, his job had traumatized him, including sexually. Dealing with so many rape victims had turned him off sex when he'd first started working in SVU, and he hadn't been able to make love to his wife. On the rare occasions that he fucked her, there was no intimacy, merely the gratification of physical needs. After talking to a therapist, he'd finally reached out to his wife again, but the thrill of it was gone. And Kathy hadn't particularly missed it, nor had she been overly receptive when it'd started up again. By then, the emotional bond between them was mostly severed, hanging by a tenuous thread. When 9/11 occurred, the weak remnants of his marriage hadn't been able to withstand his grief and stress, and Elliot had turned to other cops for support. Olivia. He'd turned to Olivia because they'd shared the trauma and horror on that bright, cloudless September morning. He glanced at Olivia now; she appeared concerned.

"I can check the restroom," she offered. "Maybe Kathy's in there." He watched her head in that direction. Elliot took off for the main lobby to search for his wife. Fortunately, his detective skills came in handy and he easily found her waiting by the hotel's large revolving doors. She was wearing her winter coat and peering outside.

"Kathy!" he exclaimed upon seeing her. She whipped around at the sound of his voice and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm going home, Elliot. The valet's bringing the car 'round for me."

"What the hell, Kath?" Other words eluded him. He walked up to her and grabbed her upper arm. "You just walked out without saying a word?"

"No. I tried to get your attention but you were so focused on watching Olivia sing that you didn't even notice." She couldn't keep the hurt out of her words.

Elliot gaped at her, not knowing how to respond.

"The valet's here," she told him. "I'm leaving."

"The hell you are! You can't just walk out on me like that, Kathy. We need to talk." Elliot popped outside and told the valet to hold on. He grabbed a twenty out of his wallet and crushed it into the young man's hand. "Just wait here for now. My wife's not ready to leave."

"Yes, I am!" Kathy pushed past the solid wall of her husband and tried to get into their car, but Elliot pulled her back and forcibly ushered her back into the lobby despite her vocal protests. When they were back in the marbled foyer, he let go of her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"I'm trying to find out what the hell's going on!"

"Don't you go into cop mode with me, Elliot Stabler. I'm your wife, not a suspect."

Elliot blew out hot air from his nostrils and gritted his teeth. "Right now, I'm not sure what you are, but you owe me an explanation."

"Fine! Fine! You want an explanation? I'll give you one!" she shouted at him. Her cheeks blazed with fury and her eyes glinted dangerously. "Olivia! You have a thing for your partner," she accused.

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Oh here we go again. Don't you think we've beat this topic to death already? It's a dead horse, Kathy." The fights about Olivia had started from the moment she'd become his partner. Kathy had met her and immediately become insecure and suspicious. At first, she'd tried to keep her fears to herself, but was soon unable to let slip the occasional sarcastic or jealous comment. Those were quickly followed by baseless accusations. Elliot's late nights at the precinct hadn't helped his cause one bit.

"Dead horse, my ass," she retorted angrily. "You couldn't keep your eyes off of her tonight. Not that any man could, given that scrap of a dress she's wearing. But you … you were the worst of them. You looked like you wanted to _devour_ her," she cried.

"Kathy …"

"I'm not finished." Kathy swiped at the tears in her eyes and sniffed loudly.

"I think you are," he replied sternly. "Olivia has never done a single inappropriate thing. Don't you dare accuse her."

"I can't believe this," she huffed out. "You're defending her, even now. I can't win." She shook her head sadly, and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"What can't you win? There's nothing to win. You're being paranoid."

"Am I? Really?" Kathy turned on her heel and headed back to the revolving doors.

"Kathy, stop!"

"Why? Why should I stop? I'm going home, Elliot." She picked up her pace and tried to ignore her husband.

"You're just gonna leave me here?" he asked, unable to believe how this evening had turned out.

"No, Elliot. I don't think you understand. I'm not just leaving you _here_. I'm leaving _you_." She stopped and faced him with resolve. "Nuh-uh, before you open your mouth and say something stupid again, let me tell you what I see."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and jutted his chin out. "Okay, fine. Go ahead."

"This isn't easy for me. I know we've been drifting apart for years, and that we got married too young, but none of those things were impossible to overcome. At least not until now."

"Why now?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? You're in love with her." She held out her hand to stop his protests. "And you've been in love with her for years. Deny it if you want, but it's clear as a bell to me. When she sang tonight, it was like the two of you were in your own little world. She's in love with you too. Are you going to deny it?" She threw the challenge out, but he could see that the fight was gone from her now. The steely glint in her eye had faded to a dull gloom.

The weight of Kathy's words slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave. He staggered back, seeking equilibrium. As a matter of habit, his first instinct was to deny her allegations. "It's not …" he sputtered stupidly. "What I mean to say is that she and I are …" he trailed off, seeking new words to explain to her that it wasn't what she was thinking. But the more he wished to convey to his wife that she was wrong, the harder his task became. He rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

Kathy cocked an eyebrow at him and shook her head sadly. Elliot knew that she wasn't stupid. She'd declared truth, and confirmed the reality they now inhabited. He was in love with Olivia. Desperately. Completely. And Kathy was right-it had been going on for years, ever since those damned airplanes had destroyed the twin towers, taking his marriage down as collateral damage.

"That's what I thought," Kathy said with a sad sigh. "You can't deny it." She headed outside to the waiting car and valet.

 _ **A/N: Ok, I lied. This was supposed to be the final chapter, but the story has a life of its own. I wanted to end this chapter after the scene with Kathy, before bringing Liv back into it. That's for the next chapter, okay folks? Hope you are enjoying the story. Please Review. I love reviews. They're like little chocolates made of words. Thank you!**_


	4. Chapter 4

Elliot watched his wife disappear through the revolving doors, still unable to fully process the fight they'd just had. She'd accused him of being in love with Olivia … for years, and he'd been unable to deny the allegation. Guilty. He was guilty, and the associated stomach churning discomfort that accompanied that culpability took his breath away.

"Hey, you okay Elliot?" John Munch made his presence known. He approached Elliot and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "That was rough. Maybe you ought to sit." John led him to a small couch in the lobby and gently pushed his friend onto it. "Deep breaths, my friend. Deep breaths."

Elliot allowed himself to be led, his brain unable to formulate any new information. Kathy's voice resonated in his head. He looked up at Munch and said, "She left me."

"I heard. Sorry, but I was helping you look for her and couldn't help but overhear your fight." John shook his head and patted Elliot on the shoulder. "I think there might be somebody in Timbuktu who didn't hear her."

"Oh gawd." Elliot slumped down and hid his face in his hands. "I hope Liv didn't hear any of that."

"Come on, I was just making a little joke. She was checking the ladies' restroom for Kathy. I'm sure she didn't hear anything."

Elliot felt as though the oxygen in the room had suddenly become thin. He gasped for breath and gulped guiltily. He couldn't face John and looked away from him. "What the hell do I do now?"

"Look, Stabler, you're in shock. You just experienced the death knell of your marriage. Trust me, I know what that's like. It's happened to me four times."

"The death knell of my marriage? Fuck, John, is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No. I'm giving you a dose of reality."

"Kathy just gave me a dose of reality."

"Yeah. Look, this couldn't have been such a huge surprise. It must have been a long time coming, no?" John peered at Elliot over his darkened lenses, and compassion emanated from his eyes.

Elliot stood up, unable to bear the scrutiny. He paced the marble floor in circles, a maelstrom of memories flooding his brain. Things with Kathy had been going badly for a long time, indeed. They never confided in each other anymore, and they didn't seem particularly happy to spend time together. They co-existed like roommates raising children together. Sure, he loved her but he wasn't _in love_ with her. He wondered if he'd ever been in love with her at all. Getting married because they'd had to, right out of high school, he hadn't had the luxury to consider his feelings toward her. He'd done the right thing. And now, after twenty years, and four children, the cracks in his marriage's weak foundations had shattered and he was left staring at the rubble left behind.

"It's over?" Elliot turned to Munch.

"Come on buddy, you're going to survive this."

"Maybe I can still work it out with her. She needs some space and time, and after that I'll go home and we'll talk and work it out."

John barely restrained himself from scoffing. "Is what she said true? About you and Liv?" He already knew the answer; hell the entire precinct did. And after Liv's emotional serenade of Elliot tonight, all of Manhattan's cops knew it too. "I mean, you didn't deny it."

Elliot furrowed his brows. "I need some space," he declared. He pushed past John and through the revolving doors. The cold December air sliced through his tuxedo, enveloping him in its solid embrace. He exhaled sharply and took a deep breath of freezing air. Like a slap in the face, it revived him from his shock. He stood in front of the hotel, staring at nothing in particular. John's question now joined the tumult of Kathy's words. Did he love Liv? Of course he loved Liv. She was his partner, his best friend, and they depended on each other for their lives. It was them against the evil they confronted. Him and Liv against the world. Every. Single. Fucking. Day. Liv. God, she was amazing, so strong, smart, and brave and independent. But was he _in love_ with her? True, he hadn't denied it.

He could still see her on that fateful September day, covered in white dust when he'd found her leading survivors to safety. They'd lost each other for a time, and the fear that she'd been killed when the second tower came down had propelled him into the danger zone and mayhem that was Ground Zero. He'd never prayed so hard in his life during that hour when he didn't know her fate. Reunited in the rubble, they'd clung to each other for dear life, their tears making a path through the caked on debris they were wearing. Liv. He'd never kissed Liv, but that day he'd come too damned close when his lips had pressed into her gritty, dusty short hair. As such, he always kept a professional distance from her, never touching her unless absolutely necessary. But tonight, he'd grasped her arm after losing himself in her song. The song she'd sung to him. Had his love for Liv just cost him his marriage? Elliot blinked back tears and the cold air stung his eyes. He shivered and his teeth began to chatter.

"Hey Stabler, you coming inside?" John Munch joined him outside. "You've been standing there long enough; it's freezing."

"I'm thinking."

"Yeah, well, maybe you could think indoors. You're gonna catch pneumonia out here. Even though conventional wisdom says that you need a virus to get sick, the cold air depresses your immune system and makes one more susceptible to all the viruses that surround us. I once caught pneumonia after a particularly cold stake out and …"

"Alright John! I'm coming in. Don't know where I'm going after that though."

John pushed through the revolving door after Elliot. Once back in the lobby, he turned to his friend. "You could take advantage of the special hotel rate they're giving our party's guests tonight. Only $99 to stay at the Four Seasons. You should probably give Kathy some space before you head back home."

El considered his words. "I don't even know if I have a home to go back to," he said. "I'm probably going to have to get a place in the city. Shit. Do you have any idea how expensive this city is?"

"I've got some idea. Come on, book a room and stop thinking so much. The party's still going on and the band just arrived. People are dancing, and there's cake," John said.

"Just like that, huh? You want me to return to the party? Now? After the 'death knell' of my marriage?"

John chuckled softly. "Heed my wisdom, o young one. After four divorces, one thing I can tell you is that life continues. You might as well drink the free champagne. In this case, literally."

* * *

Olivia was about to head out of the party room and begin a search when Munch and Elliot returned. She saw John push a glass of champagne into El's hands and whisper something in his ear. Elliot responded with a wry smile and a shake of his head. He downed the champagne in three gulps and grabbed another one from the waiter's tray. Olivia's eyes widened and she approached the pair.

"Did you find Kathy?" she asked, surprised yet again when Elliot drained his second flute of champagne.

"Yup."

Olivia scanned the area behind her friends. "Where is she?"

"Driving home. She left."

Olivia cocked her head and raised one eyebrow. "She left you here?"

"Very observant, Detective," he told her. "She went home, so yes, she left me here."

"But … but … did you two have a fight or something?" Olivia realized that she wasn't in the know and she could sense that Elliot was withholding information from her. She scrutinized him now, peering into his face, seeking answers.

"Drop it, Olivia," Munch said. "Elliot needs to enjoy the rest of this party and relax right now. Why don't you two dance?"

"Wow, you're letting me dance with your date?" Elliot asked.

"I don't need his permission. Come on El." She plucked his empty champagne flute out of his hand and handed it to John. Then she took Elliot's hand and led him to the dance floor. "What's going on with you?" she said as they approached the couples dancing.

"As Munch told you, drop it, Olivia. I'm not going there. Do you want to dance or do you want to interrogate me?"

"You don't have to be so cranky. Let's dance."

"Fine! Let's dance." Elliot strode purposefully toward the dance floor and pulled Olivia close. The song was semi-slow, and couples were holding each other, moving their feet in rhythm to the live band's music.

Olivia gasped when Elliot's hands circled her waist. She shivered from the contact against his cold tuxedo and goosebumps broke out on her arms. "Were you outside? You're freezing."

"Sorry 'bout that. Just need to warm up," he replied, luxuriating in the soft warmth of her body against his. He couldn't believe that she was in his arms, her hands on his shoulders and her face so close. He looked into her dark almond eyes, losing himself there for a moment. She blinked rapidly a few times, then looked down at their feet.

Olivia tried to dispel the iciness of him. She reached around the nape of his neck and placed her warm fingers there, letting their heat sink into his skin. Then, she smoothed her hands down his arms and rubbed gently. "Warming up?" she asked.

"You have no idea," he said.

"Excuse me?" Olivia took one step back and held him at arm's length.

"I was really cold and you're warming me up. Thanks," he said, with a small upturn of his lips.

"Why were you out there anyway?" she asked, and moved back into his arms. The next song had a slower tempo, with melodious piano notes floating through the room. She began to relax against him and circled her arms around his neck once again, feeling the short hair at his nape. Unconsciously, she stroked it and sighed.

Elliot closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against her soft hair. He inhaled deeply and detected notes of jasmine and something floral. He rested one hand on her hip, feeling its sensuous curve every time she moved. His other hand was splayed against her back, and he gently crushed his fingertips against the silvery velvet of her dress.

"El?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why were you outside?" Olivia's voice was breathless.

"Needed to think."

"What about?"

"9/11," he said. "And the way you looked when I found you, all covered in that white dust, helping people. God, Liv, I thought I'd lost you."

"It was the song. That song brought it back for me too," she admitted. They were still dancing, or rather swaying to the music, side to side, wrapped up in each other. Their existence now consisted of this: rocking gently to piano notes, her soft pliable body against his firm one, and the scent of jasmine hanging in the air. He buried his nose in her hair and didn't speak for a moment. When he did, she startled at the sudden timbre of his voice against her ear.

"When you sang to me, er, to the crowd, I remembered that day. It'll always be part of me."

"Um, of _us_ ," she whispered. "I thought I'd lost you too." She squeezed him more tightly, the guise of dancing giving her free reign to hold him. She felt his arms trembling against her.

"You're trembling. Are you still cold?" she asked him. She pulled her head away from his face so she could look into his eyes.

"No. That's not why I'm trembling." His deep blue eyes bore into hers. This time, she didn't look down; she held his gaze. Drowning. She was drowning in the deep Mediterranean blue of his eyes, losing herself like a swimmer caught in the undertow.

"Oh?" she whispered.

They held each other fast with their eyes, and naturally their lips followed. The spontaneous kiss lasted only a few seconds, a light meeting of mouths. Liv's eyes popped open and she jumped back as though her lips had touched fire. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she gasped, and pulled away from him sharply.

"It's okay Liv … it's okay," he told her. His heart was ramming into his chest, threatening to burst through his cummerbund.

She stared at him with huge eyes, a look of abject guilt on her face, and ran out of the room.

"Olivia, wait!" he cried, unheeding of their colleagues' curious stares. He ran through the large double doors out to the hallway but she was nowhere to be seen. Elliot turned in a circle, scanning every possible angle of the corridor. Nothing. Olivia had simply vanished into thin air.

 _ **A/N: Whenever I think I'm going to wrap up this story, it keeps getting longer. So much for it being a one-shot. How are you guys liking it so far?**_


	5. Chapter 5

Elliot scanned the corridor, but Olivia was gone. He paced up and down a few feet until he saw light beneath a doorway. He opened the door and found her standing at a large oval conference table, hugging the back of a black leather chair. He could still feel the ghost of her soft lips against his, and his pulse was faster than usual. She was lost in her thoughts and he valiantly wished he had a penny to unlock the fascinating musings of her secretive mind.

"Hi," he said softly as not to startle her.

"El." She turned around and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm so sorry," she began, but he cut her off.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he reassured her.

"But I kissed you," she croaked out, then looked away from him.

Elliot took a few tentative steps toward her and gave her a small smile. "Actually, I think I kissed you, but it's a moot point."

"No, it's not," she said. "You're married. I had no right."

"Yeah, well who knows for how much longer?" he told her, frowning.

"What?"

Elliot went to sit in one of the large leather chairs and wheeled it toward Olivia. "When I found Kathy earlier, she and I, er, we argued."

"About what?" Liv sat beside him and swivelled her chair to face him.

"Doesn't matter," he said with a shrug. "She left me. And I don't just mean here at the hotel. She left _me_. I believe Munch referred to it as the _death knell of my marriage_."

"Oh my god, what? Elliot, I'm so sorry." Olivia put a hand on his arm and stared at him wide-eyed. "I'm sure John is exaggerating, and you two can work things out."

Elliot slumped in his chair and ran his hands through his shorn hair. "Not likely, Liv. It's been a long time coming, and the underlying issues aren't going away," he told her.

"Issues?" she probed.

"It's complicated." Elliot stood up and took a deep breath, facing away from Olivia. A slight flush crept up his cheeks and he couldn't make eye contact with her.

"Complicated. I see." She bowed her head. "It's me, isn't it? You two argued about me."

They both waited for him to say something, to answer her, but he couldn't.

"I'm so sorry, El, for any part I've played in this," she told him.

"No, no, don't do that to yourself. It's not your fault that Kathy has jealousy issues." He turned back to face her, saddened by the look of guilt on her face.

"If Kathy has jealousy issues, maybe it's because I've given her cause," she said flatly.

"You've never done anything," he argued.

"Except kiss you just now," she said, blushing again.

"Kathy left before that," he reminded her.

Olivia fingered the material of her silver velvet dress, nervously toying with it. "She didn't like my dress; it's too revealing."

Elliot couldn't help but steal a glance at the exposed golden cleavage he'd been consciously avoiding all evening. His heart rate revved, and he gulped, then moved his eyes up to her face. "Your dress is lovely, Liv. You're lovely. And you haven't done anything wrong," he repeated.

"Then why tonight?" she asked him. "Why did Kathy leave you now, during a party?"

Elliot crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his chair back a few inches. He gathered his thoughts for a moment, unsure how to proceed.

"El?"

"All those memories of 9/11 resurfaced after your song. God, Liv, you were amazing …gave me goddamned goosebumps when you sang."

Liv tilted her head. "I don't understand. What does that have to do with Kathy?"

"Nothing. Precisely nothing. 9/11 had nothing to do with Kathy. She didn't experience it at all."

Olivia furrowed her brow trying to understand. "I'm not connecting the dots," she said. "About your marriage and 9/11 …"

Elliot sighed and suddenly he looked tired. "Kathy made some accusations." The words were whispered, and lingered a moment too long in the air between them.

"What kind of accusations?"

He couldn't face her, so he went to stand by the window, overlooking the parking lot. Then he remembered that his car wasn't here and he'd been abandoned. Left behind, for good. Olivia crept toward him, not wanting to force the tipping point. However, she could sense a tension building within him, between them. She stood next to him quietly, pressing her lips together in anticipation of his words.

"That I'm in love with you," he confessed, keeping his eyes fixed on the window before him. "And have been for years."

A soft gasp escaped Liv's lips and Elliot turned around to face her. "But you set her straight, right? You denied it?" She stared at him with wide eyes.

He said nothing, merely shaking his head.

"But El, why?"

"I couldn't deny it," he said, finally locking eyes with her. The brilliant blue of them pierced through her with unflinching frankness. "I couldn't lie."

Olivia was rendered speechless. She and Elliot didn't admit things. They didn't have heart to hearts. They coexisted as a unit, as one. His admitting loving her was as incredulous as her left foot telling her right ear that it loved it. She gripped the back of the chair closest to her for support. They functioned in tandem, without need for explanations.

"Say something," he pleaded with her. "Please."

"Are you sure it's love?"

"Damned sure, Liv. And I think I realized it that dreadful day in September. I knew I couldn't lose you, ever." Elliot's hands trembled as he reached out to touch her arm, her skin like golden silk beneath his calloused fingers. "I've said too much. I'm so sorry, Liv, but my filters were somewhat blasted earlier tonight."

"Don't be sorry," she choked out, her voice hoarse with emotion. She closed her eyes a moment, reliving her own memories of that fateful day. And every day. Elliot was in her everyday life. He was as much a part of her as her own lungs. She never considered the question of loving him because it went without saying. Except now, he'd broken the taboo and said it. It existed outside of them, a truth that could no longer be ignored. She was very aware of his warm hand on her arm, its slight tremor. She placed her own hand over it, steadying him. Olivia was quiet for too many moments that dripped with incertitude.

"Liv?"

"It's okay, El. It's going to be okay," she said with a smile.

"I don't know what happens next," he said.

"You've got an brand new year to figure it out."

Elliot removed his hand from her arm and glanced down at his watch. "It's almost time," he said. "2005, here we come."

Their eyes held for a heartbeat, then two, three more beats. She broke the spell first, "Maybe we should get back to the party. It's nearly midnight."

"Wait!" Elliot caressed her smooth shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I don't want you to blame yourself for any of this. Whatever will happen between Kathy and me is bound to happen. We haven't been connected in a very long time, Liv. Since even before I met you. You've got to understand that."

She nodded at him and pursed her lips. From beneath craggy brows, his blue eyes sought her truth. "Alright," she said.

With relief, he put his arms around her and hugged her closely. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around his waist, resting her head on his chest. "I love you too, El," she admitted, while buried in his stark white shirt. "But I never wanted to break up your marriage."

"You didn't," he whispered into her shiny brown hair.

They held each other for a moment, until the noise coming from the party room down the hall became too boisterous. _Ten, nine, eight, seven …_

"I'm going to kiss you," he said. _Three, two, one, Happy New Year!_

Before Olivia could formulate a thought, Elliot's lips were upon hers, firm yet soft. She moaned into his mouth and brought her fingers up to into his hair, stroking and tugging at it. He caressed her hips, kneading the feminine flesh, relishing the curves beneath his fingers. They probed and nipped each other's mouths, as though tasting delectable candy, needing to suck all of the sweetness the other had to offer. When they finally pulled apart for breath, Elliot said, "Happy New Year, Liv."

She licked her lips and glanced up at him from beneath dark lashes. "Happy New Year, El."

"2005 is going to bring a lot of change," he told her.

"We're going to figure it out. Don't worry." She cupped his stubbled cheek and pressed her lips lightly against his.

The End

 ** _A/N: Ok, I finished my first SVU story. Still writing the angst-filled Worth. I always like reviews._**


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